


Clueless, or Butt-Crazy in Love

by blue_fjords



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_fjords/pseuds/blue_fjords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Harkness is your average American high school boy.  100% AU, be mindful of the crack.  (Fusion w/ "Clueless.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clueless, or Butt-Crazy in Love

**Author's Note:**

> All the good lines in this puppy are property of Amy Heckerling. Totally borrowing. Many thanks to amand_r for the beta and the support. Thanks for agreeing to go through Jack first-person POV. Young, American Jack first-person POV. Posted for reel_torchwood fest in January of 2010.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking. You see me and you’re totally bowled over by my looks, and clothes, and partially underground mansion and everything, and you think I must lead some kind of charmed life, like a prince in a fairy tale. Something cool, like _Jack Harkness & His Forty Thieves_, not anything like _Sleeping Beauty_. (Though I’ve seen pictures of me sleeping, and I look _good_.) But actually, you know, I live a way normal life. I’m seriously like any other American boy. I live with my mom, Martha Jones, M.D., in Beverly Hills, California, and every morning I pick up my best friend Gwen and I drive us to school in my totally souped-up SUV. It’s my learn-to-drive vehicle, in preparation for getting my license picture. I swear we look like secret agents in that thing. Except when we open the sun roof and dance at red lights. Gwen’s my friend because we both know what it’s like to have people be jealous of us. She has this totally normal boyfriend, too – Rhys. He’s nice enough, yeah, but in my opinion, she could have bagged a college boy. Searching for a boy in high school is as useless as searching for meaning in a Pauly Shore movie. You won’t find _me_ trolling the halls of T. Wood High looking for an appropriate boy. No, sir.

Especially when you consider the boys that populate T. Wood! Oh my God, the way they dress! Have a little care. I prefer the classics myself, but these boys – the messier, the better. And _nothing_ is tailored. When I get up at the front of the class to make a presentation, I know that everyone is checking out my awesome threads, and therefore, I have their attention. And isn’t that the point? I really kick ass in Debate when I wear a special outfit. The other day, my topic was Illegal Aliens. I gave a really impassioned speech about how, you know, we shouldn’t call them that, because it’s rude and misleading. I mean, if I was confused by the term, I’m sure lawmakers would be, too. I suggested we call them Unplanned Visitors. Doesn’t that sound so much nicer? I was wearing my best blue shirt from my mom’s annual pre-school shopping spree in New York, it really brings out my eyes, so everyone was paying very close attention. And they totally agreed with me! But then, grody Yvonne offered the counter-argument and said we should kick the Aliens out, or implant them with tracking devices or something so we could always watch what they were doing! She’s such a freak; I don’t know why I even hang out with her. Plus, she was wearing a pink pantsuit. Gag me.

But then. Horror. Mr. Myfanwy handed around our report cards and I just about _died_! Usually I feel a little bad for Mr. Myfanwy, because my ex-step-brother told me that his last name is actually a Welsh girl’s name, and honestly, no one here can pronounce it anyhow, but he totally gave me a C in Debate! A C! That’s like, average. And I am NOT average. At least I didn’t cry, like Tommy. Dude needs something to take his mind off how poorly he does in class. Anyway, I had to call Gwen right away and compare grades. 

“Mr. My-fanwhale gave me a C-!” I could hear her boots all the way down the hall. Gwen wears these _killer_ black leather boots, they are super sexy.

“Gwen, we need a plan. I cannot present my mother with a C!” I really can’t. My mom is a super-fabulous neurosurgeon. That means she cuts people’s heads open. But she says she doesn’t have to cut mine open to know I have a beautiful mind. Isn’t she totally sweet?

We walked down the hall arm-in-arm and mulled our options. See, here’s the thing about Mr. My-fineweyell – he’s a lonely old man. Never been married, and you can tell from his outfits? No one sees him before he gets to school. But it wasn’t until I got home from school and walked into my kitchen that it hit me: what that man needs is a good healthy boink fest.

See, my ex-step-brother was in the kitchen when I got home. And it’s not that I think of sex when I see Ianto. As if. He’s kind of a major geek. But he was all leaning on the fridge, and bending over, and a guy can be forgiven for thinking of sex in these circumstances.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said. Okay, not very diplomatic of me, but what was he doing at our house? He has a dorm room at his boarding school. I’m sure all his boarding school friends miss his urbane wit. Or not.

“Nice to see you, too, wanker,” he said. See? He’s not any better. And that was not at all witty.

“I love it when you use your Welsh charm on me. Tell me again about the cockles.” I love that word. Who wouldn’t?

He rolled his eyes at me. He does that a lot. “Shove off, or there’ll be no bubble & squeak for you tomorrow.”

“Ugh, who invited you to stay the night? Moocher.”

He finally closed the fridge door and tried to get by me. “You’re the best brother a bloke could have,” he said, and mock punched me. I could see by the way his eyes widened that he was surprised by the size of my bicep.

“We are not brothers,” I said, quite firmly. Though when he’s in his school clothes, he does have passable taste (waistcoats!). But usually he dresses so grungy, that even though we actually look alike, no one would ever put us together. Plus, my muscles are so much bigger.

Mom called us for dinner then, and I’ll admit it: I checked out his ass as he walked in front of me. Okay, okay – it’s a nice ass. But he’s such a prick!

Anyhow, Mom asked him if he was seeing anyone at his school (she still really likes playing the role of Mom around him) and he said “no one special” and _that’s_ when it hit me about Mr. My-fillitup. Ianto always focuses on his partner to all exclusion – you can get away with anything when he’s in love! I needed to find someone for Mr. My-wanker.

The next day, Gwen and I put our plan into action: Operation Mr. My-needtogetlaid. Unfortunately, finding a babe for a middle-aged boink-fest was easier said than done. Even with all the Botox available in Beverly Hills, and that’s saying something. We narrowed it down to three candidates; Ms. Diane Holmes (who’s much too attractive to get with a guy like Mr. My-mufasa), Ms. Beth Halloran (also very attractive, but I have a sneaky suspicion she’s more than Mr. My-foothurts could handle), and Ms. Janet Du We’vil.

Here’s the thing about Ms. Du We’vil: she’s real empathic. I have her for Humanities, and it’s all touchy-feely, I’m-okay-you’re-okay stuff. She had given me a B- on my report card, but I went to her and told her an evil male had broken my heart, and she raised it to a B+ because she totally felt my pain! Anyhow, she’s not the most attractive woman and she always wears clothes that just cover everything up without showing any form, but she has a warm, toothy smile. She has potential.

Gwen and I started small: I filched Ianto’s coffee thermos and gave it to the two of them to share (Ianto makes the _best_ coffee – it’s his one redeeming quality). Over the next few days, we ratcheted up our plan of attack. We sent Ms. Du We’vil an orchid – Gwen wanted to send roses, but I don’t really like roses, and besides, orchids have all that sexual imagery going for them – and we went the classic sonnet route. That took awhile; I had to research stuff on the internet since neither of us have any poetry books, and I got a little distracted. There are some kinky poems on the web! I bookmarked a few. But not for Mr. My-freebird and Ms. Du We’vil. Ew.

And the plan totally worked! Grades rose, and Gwen and I were the toast of the school. Well, we always were, but even more so now. My mom was so proud of me! She said she loves the way my brain works. The only thing that got me down was Ianto’s reaction. He said I didn’t care about Mr. Myfanwy (and of course he used the man’s actual name, to prove how much _he_ cared, no doubt – wanker!) or Ms. Du We’vil. Like, at all. It really got me down. I retaliated well, though, and made fun of his chin pubes. Seriously, he could really rock the clean-shaven look. A little wax in his hair … some chapstick on his lips …

Whatever. I had to talk to Gwen. We had retail therapy scheduled for the next day at our favorite mall.

“Why are you even listening to Ianto? He’s butting his cute little nose in where it doesn’t belong.” Gwen was trying to find a new pair of boots. She was debating between this pair of totally rocking purple cowboy boots and these black steampunk boots. She should really get both.

“I know, you’re right … it’s just, he’s in all those do-gooder clubs and … hey, you wouldn’t call me selfish, would you?” I had just bought shoe polish for my mom’s hospital-staff-meeting shoes. Our maid would actually use it, so it was like I bought a gift for two people right there!

“No. Not to your face.” Gwen’s the best, really. She totally bought both pairs of boots.

And that’s when we saw her: Toshiko Sato, the new girl. She was out in front of the Mr. Slushee, sucking down bright blue ice something, ugh, and wearing an outfit that would have been all the rage … in Peoria, Illinois. Like, ten years ago.

“Gwen!” I hissed. “Look at her! She’s so completely clueless. I smell makeover!”

“I don’t know, Jack. I _am_ looking at her. Our stock would totally plummet.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure? Of generosity?” Gwen’s a total pushover for me, but not for anyone else, so we totally waved Toshiko over. She was, naturally, flabbergasted that we would notice her and awestruck that we’d let her hang with us. I _have_ mentioned that we are the most popular kids in school, right?

Thus began Operation: Makeover. One of my most favorite things to do is to mentor people in the right way to dress and act, plus it was totally helping Toshiko. So take that, Ianto-Tenderheart-Bear!

These are the facts about Toshiko: her nickname is Tosh (I think Toshiko is way more elegant, but Gwen was all over the hipster appeal of “Tosh”), she’s a _total_ brain (hello chemistry help! I can’t wait to get to physics next year; that is so the science for me), she’s way shy (she has never had popular friends before, can you believe that?), and she is smoking hot! Seriously, once she ditched the fugly machine-made sweaters and showed off her legs in a short skirt, I knew we had chosen well. Snaps to me!

I brought her by my house to introduce her to the concept of working out. Just because you have a good-looking body does not mean you are fit and healthy. There are all these totally hot women in this area of the country, but so many of them would snap like a twig. I’m not saying Toshiko should put on a metal bikini and do calisthenics on the beach (ew, seagulls would totally attack), but it’s a good idea to develop your core strength, at least. And if we just happened to be doing Pilates when Ianto came over, so much the better! 

“Ianto! Come here; I want to introduce you to my friend, Toshiko!” Ha, he wasn’t even looking at her at first. This is completely understandable, as I do all my Pilates topless.

Toshiko looked at him through her single leg stretch, and mumbled a hello. I really need to work on her to address people articulately and as if she was truly interested in what they were saying. This will make people pay more attention to her! Anyhow, Ianto whipped out the Welsh charm (if only that was a euphemism for something else – kidding; Ianto, ew) and Toshiko started blushing and stammering. I’ll need to give her some breathing tips. If she falls apart when a guy like Ianto talks to her, imagine what would happen if a hot guy did?

“What on earth are you doing to that poor girl?” he asked me when I shooed him out of our exercise room.

“I am helping her to be the best she can be! Are you astonished that I would want to do something good for humanity?” I totally am! Imagine what this world will be like with a super sexy, confident Toshiko Sato prowling the streets.

“You’re brainwashing that poor girl. If you want to help humanity, you should really consider sterilization.” I totally punched him for that one. He thinks he’s so funny. I was going to punch him again, but he saw it coming that time and stopped it. Still, I got him shoved up in front of the fridge. This whole time he’s laughing at me. _Wanker, wanker, wanker._ And since when did we become the same height? When I loosened my grip a bit on his wrist, he didn’t get free. He just stayed there, pressed between my bare chest (which was all gleam-y from sweat and incredibly well-muscled, besides, if I do say so myself) and the fridge. It was … weird.

Then Toshiko fell over in the exercise room, and I left Ianto to see to her. Poor thing; some people just aren’t coordinated.

Gwen and I showed her all the ins and outs of T. Wood High the next day; who to talk to, who hosts the best parties, who’s completely lame. Rhys and Owen joined us at lunch, and I swear, I cannot stop these _awesome_ ideas! Gwen totally agreed with this one: Owen (as far as high school boys go is one of the few it would be acceptable to date) just broke up with his girlfriend Katie. Ergo, he is single. Toshiko is single! They’re perfect for each other!

Seeing as how we had a lot of fresh experience setting people up, and successfully, too, we immediately launched our campaign to get Toshiko and Owen together. You can do stuff like this really easily. For example, at lunch, I had the two of them sit next to each other. Then I dropped my napkin behind Toshiko and asked Owen to get it for me. He totally would have checked out her legs on the way down! Then I sketched a picture of the two of them and gave it to Owen. Oh my God, I am so romantic! You can tell he cherished the drawing.

I was feeling rather pleased with myself when Tommy literally ran into us. He was also floored by Toshiko’s sexiness, as he should be, and asked if we were going to go to the party in the Valley that weekend. Now, Tommy is nice enough, sure, but he’s a bit of a slacker. And perpetually wide-eyed. I think Toshiko wanted to go to that party, but I told her we’d think about it. I mean, we didn’t know who was going to be there! What if it was just Yvonne’s friends, ick. When you’re as popular as me, you have to think about these things.

Rhys called us from the party in the Valley, though, and told Gwen that Owen was there. _And he was asking when we would get there!_ Squeeeee! Toshiko was super nervous, but Gwen and I gave her tips on how to talk to boys on the drive there. I’m really good at it.

Unfortunately, we lost Gwen as a wingwoman almost immediately. Toshiko and I could hear her shrieks all the way from the other side of the house.

“Rhys! What are you doing? Your hair! Your _hair_!” Her voice just kept getting higher and higher. I hustled Toshiko right over. This was going to be _good_!

“Come on, Gwennie! Look how good it is on Banana!” Oooh, a fumble, Rhys! Banana’s an idiot, and his non-existent hair looks terrible. Gwen totally agreed.

“Banana’s an idiot! And why are you listening to him? I’m the one who has to look at you!” Gwen was gesturing with her hands now. That’s the danger sign with Gwen. Once the hands start flailing, look out world!

“Leave off, it’s my head!” It was like watching a tennis match at a hair salon.

“Look at you, Rhys! Yearbook pictures are coming up. What am I going to tell my grandchildren?” And then she whipped out her cell phone. I swear the entire party held its breath. “I’m calling Brenda.”

“Noooooooo!” I had to laugh, though. Rhys’s mom is infamous in our group of friends for her shoulder pads (it’s like the 80s never died, my God) and her complete and utter inability to see reason when it came to her son. Rhys was going to get it.

Toshiko and I had loads of fun dancing for a bit. I’m a super graceful dancer, and Toshiko’s a good mimicker. I had just spotted Owen and pointed him out to Toshiko when some dumbass got carried away with the dancing and lost her shoe in the excitement. ‘Lost’ it as in the shoe sailed through the air and bounced off Toshiko’s forehead. She went down like a pile of bricks. No wonder; it was last season’s shoe – those were some clunky heels! I scooped her right up and brought her into the kitchen, yelling for Owen to come help. He _scurried_. See how much he likes Toshiko? At any rate I figured between the two of us (my mom’s a neurosurgeon and his dad is head of pediatric psychiatry) we’d be able to help Toshiko and her bumped head.

Sure enough, she sat right up, and promptly banged her head again, this time on Tommy. He’d followed us like a lost puppy. I had to do some strategic blocking to ensure that Toshiko and Owen got a few moments alone. They looked so cute dancing together! They’re both so little and delicately-featured. A really good match, and now that they were on the dance floor, only someone completely lacking in class would interrupt them. I saw Tommy heading over, and I had to roll my eyes. Lacking in class or totally infatuated. I had to block him _again_.

I was all set to declare the party a success, but then Toshiko got a ride home in a completely different car, and I had to go with Owen. However, I keep my grin on at all times by following one simple mandate: when life hands you lemons, make moisturizers. So I took the opportunity to weasel out Owen’s true feelings about Toshiko.

“Toshiko was looking totally hot tonight.” See, normally, I would phrase that differently, maybe point out some of her other attributes besides just her appearance, but that’s not how you handle Owen.

“What?” Owen can be totally clueless. I’d probably have to be even more direct.

“I mean, I’d totally hit that. Wouldn’t you?” I know, I know. Completely gauche. But I figured I could talk about what a wonderful person she is _after_ I determined intent.

“Yeah sure. But she’s a bit scrawny for my taste.” _Scrawny?_ Oh, that’s rich coming from Owen.

“Well, I think she’s gorgeous. She just came alive on paper. Like on that drawing I made for you.” It was clear I was going to have to pull out all the stops. But I can be a good wingman when the occasion calls for it. Owen was looking at me now, instead of the road. Which was a little disconcerting. I mean, I’m an excellent driver. But Owen? No.

“You’re really talented, Jack.” Duh.

“Whatever. Anyhow, I know it’s still really soon after Katie, but I think we both know what you need.” I gave him my best ‘sympathetic ear’ look, and he pulled the car over. Damn, he wanted a heart-to-heart. Oh, the things I do for my friends!

“Okay, Harkness. Look, I _may_ have thought about it, in the past, _very briefly_ , but I’m not buying what you’re selling. Do you catch my drift?” He looked very intense, so I decided to nod, though honestly, I had no idea what he meant. “I like you, don’t get me wrong, but keep it in your pants.”

Oh. My. God. He thought _I_ was coming on to him! As if! I have taste! I have _standards_! I was so mortified. I tried for a quick recovery.

“Dude – ” I must really been thrown for a loop to use ‘dude’ – “I don’t want your skank ass!” Okay, I could have been more tactful here. “I’ve been trying to get you together with Toshiko!”

“Tosh?! Are you kidding me? Your brainy little makeover project? Dream on!” He pounded his fists on the steering wheel and everything. What a drama queen.

“You just said she was hot!”

“I said I’d hit that. That’s true of just about any girl.”

“You’re a pig, you know that, right?” Okay, now _I_ was overreacting a bit. Hey, I can understand a healthy sex drive! But I wanted him to _like_ Toshiko, too.

“You want to set me up with someone? Set me up with Gwen. She’s hot, and we’d make sense.” I gave him my best ‘scumbag’ face.

“Gwen’s with Rhys, Einstein.”

“So?” Now, I know I’m not the biggest fan of Rhys Williams, but the boy is loyal. And Gwen loves to argue with him. Owen … would be annoying-frustrating, not fun-frustrating. And way too involved with checking out other options, clearly. I had to get out of there; he was totally pissing me off. So I opened the door, got out, and slammed it shut. Hard.

“Come on, Jack! Lighten up. Get back in the car.” He honked the horn at me. _Hell, no._

“Shove off, Owen!” And he _did_! Jerkwad! How the hell was I supposed to get home? Rather belatedly, I remembered that I hadn’t brought my wallet with me. It was too clunky; it ruined the line of my pants. And I had given my phone to Toshiko to hold for the same reason. I was well and truly screwed.

So, like, did you know that there are still pay phones in the Valley? Me neither! I was rather hesitant to use one, what with swine flu and everything, but my mom is an amazing doctor. If I got so much as a sniffle, she’d fix me up. But then I had the problem of who to call for a ride. Most of my friends had been at that party. Who would drop everything and come get me? Hmmmm…

Ianto’s car is a hunk of junk, but at least the backseat is roomy. I could totally stretch out back here. Heck, I bet Ianto could fit, too. Not that I want to stretch out with him in the backseat of his car! But speaking of which, I really hope he hasn’t been stretching out back here with the current occupant of the front passenger seat. So annoying:

“… no, Ianto, you’re not grasping the full implications of what Professor Yana said in the last lecture! He has you in his grasp; he’s cultivating your trust and luring you in with the promise of utopia!” Honestly, I don’t know where Ianto finds his girlfriends; this one’s a total nutjob. Still, I had to give him props for cutting off a make-out session to come pick me up. Ew, just got a mental image of Ianto making out with this girl. No, thanks. “You must throw off the shackles of the totalitarian regime and set your mind free to discover your true purpose!” What a load of crap. Maybe I should throw off the shackles of my seatbelt and crawl into the front to tell her so. “It’s just like Hamlet said: to thine own self be true.” I could keep quiet no longer!

“Ah, no, Hamlet didn’t say that.” And then she totally rolled her eyes at me.

“I think I remember Hamlet accurately.” I totally rolled my eyes back at her.

“Well, I think I remember David Tennant accurately, and Hamlet didn’t say that. That Polonious guy did.” Take that! Ianto started to laugh. I had a feeling there would be no further make-out sessions with Shackles. Especially as there was not a proper good night kiss when we dropped her off.

Ianto really didn’t seem to mind, though. And I was feeling, well, a little grateful, so I suggested he come back to the house for the rest of the weekend. Our house is so much cooler than Ianto’s dorm room, and really, we have so much space. You know, he’s not so bad to hang out with, to be truthful. We picked up some takeout for Mom and her colleagues (they’re working on this way cool proposal to build a children’s hospital in Mexico City). They were really grateful, and I didn’t even mind that they all thanked Mom’s ‘sons.’ Well, I didn’t mind that much. With Ianto shoulder to shoulder with me, it’s an easy mistake to make. Plus, he totally laughed at my jokes all night long. See? Very brotherly.

_I_ wasn’t laughing the next day, though. I had to break it to Toshiko that she and Owen were not going to happen. She took it harder than I thought. Gwen and I decided that the only way to combat the blues was to take her as far from Owen and T. Wood High as we could. We blew off our afternoon classes and went to see this harmless little rom-com, “Splott,” at Dahl Mall. There’s nothing like a mistaken identity, funny romance with cannibals to take your mind off your shitty love life. Well, that, and overdosing on cheeseburgers and milkshakes! And gossip – there were some cute waiters at the café. Gwen started it:

“What do you like, Tosh? These guys are a little puny for my taste. I like them big.” Well, Rhys certainly has an additional layer of padding to him. Some do find that attractive. Not me, though.

“Ew, I hate all those muscles.” See what I did there? I let Gwen function under the delusion that Rhys is all muscle, though I know better. Sometimes you just can’t be brutally honest with your friends; I’ve learned this the hard way.

“I’m really not that picky. Just so long as he knows what he’s doing where it counts.” Toshiko popped a French fry into her mouth and licked her finger suggestively. 

“Toshiko! This is a new side to you! Rawr!” Toshiko as a sex fiend? Who knew?

“You’ll have to fill him in, Tosh. Jack here is saving himself for Christopher Eccleston.” Oh that is the _last_ time I tell Gwen a secret!

“You’re a virgin, Jack?!” Toshiko sounded incredibly shocked.

“Maybe. Come on, you’ve seen how picky I am about my shoes, and they only go on my feet.” Besides, it’s difficult to find people like me that are our age. And I’d want him – or her, but probably him – to be open to possibility, you know? Not all weighed down by tricky labels like bi or gay or straight or anything else.

Realistically, I wasn’t going to find one in high school. At least not at T. Wood. Maybe from a local boarding school … scratch that, I don’t know what I was thinking! I put it aside and worried at the Toshiko problem all through debate class the next day. And that’s when I saw him, a tall, lean vision in brown pinstripes – it takes cojones to pull that off – striding through the classroom door like no one else was there.

He was so … assured. Confidence like that is dead sexy. Okay, so maybe he was more … genially aloof? All I knew was that I wanted to see him smile – a genuine smile – and I wanted to cause it. Corny, I know. I knew I was supposed to be looking for a guy for Toshiko, but come on, she totally wouldn’t mind if I looked for myself, too. _Jack Harkness & John Smith_. Yeah, it doesn’t exactly have a ring to it, but I can work on that.

I started my campaign of seduction the very next day. Anything you can do to draw attention to your mouth is good, so I brought blow-pops to class and passed them around. _Mmmmm, strawberry…_ I made sure to suck loudly. Also, sometimes you have to show a little skin. This reminds people of being naked, and then they think of sex. Luckily for me, I have really cut biceps. I could tell John noticed (you really couldn’t fail to in the shirts I was wearing).

And then! He asked me to this really cool documentary film festival at Paley. Success! He said he was _really_ into documentaries, especially those that depict the human condition and moments of grace in times of extreme evil. Whatever, he asked me out! I debated long and hard about what to wear. Ianto was over at the house (he was helping Mom with that Mexico City proposal – I swear the boy _enjoys_ paperwork) so I filched one of his waistcoats. The effect was awesome.

When John showed up, I brought him in to introduce him to Mom and Ianto. I could tell Mom was instantly charmed. Well, all right, at first she did her gruff spiel (“Anything happens to my son, I’ve got a .45 and a shovel. I doubt anyone would miss you.” She totally doesn’t have a .45 by the way. She has a .22.), but then John gifted her with a pineapple. Random, I know, but it worked for Mom! Ianto just shot him sullen looks, until I hit upon a brilliant plan. See, Toshiko said she’d be going to this festival, too, and I’d want her to sit with us, sure, but, well, I kind of wanted John for myself. But if Ianto tagged along, then I wouldn’t feel bad leaving him to talk to Toshiko!

We wound up doing just that. Ianto was incredibly sweet to Toshiko, and John and I talked the whole time. Well, when we weren’t watching the documentaries. He really _is_ way into them, no joke. I have to admit, they were a little boring in places. But then I just watched John instead, so win! Back at his former school, he got the nickname ‘Doc’ because of his love of documentaries. I like it; it’s kind of old school.

Anyhow, there was a really long Question & Answer period with a few of the directors after the festival, and a couple of them asked Doc if he wanted to go to a diner and talk some more. Ugh, diner food! Thankfully Ianto said he’d drive Toshiko and me home. But before we left, Doc and I made plans to watch some of _my_ favorite movies the next night! Two dates in two nights! I couldn’t stop grinning.

I had Ianto help me go through my DVD collection when we got home. I needed something sophisticated, and witty. And still pretty to watch.

“Why don’t use just pick your actual favorite movies and watch those? You like Independence Day and The Birdcage, right?” Oh, God, Ianto was exactly right. And no way could I show Doc those! Not after we just watched starving refugees in the Sudan.

“I can’t show him those! I want him to _like_ me. Maybe if we watched the French version of  The Birdcage. What do you think?” Foreign movies reek of sophistication, everyone knows this. Or maybe Ianto didn’t, as he just shrugged. “Look, Ianto, some people are not lucky enough to be as naturally adorable as you are. We have to rely on wiles.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush. Here, this one is a comedy classic, and the black and white pretends to sophistication.” He handed me Some Like It Hot. Oh, that’s perfect! And I could combine it with Sporaticus to make it a Tony Curtis night! 

Ianto’s not half-bad, really. I should cut him some slack. His dad remarried this absolute shrew, Nostra Vite, and I know Ianto doesn’t like going to spend the holidays with them. He’d really be much happier staying with us during Spring Break, so I told him so.

“I don’t want to be a bother. I mean, how much fun would it be to have a brother-type following you around over Spring Break?” He really needs to stop referring to me as his brother.

“Ianto, you are not my brother. And you’re totally not a bother. You’re already around here all the time, anyway, and you help me out. Besides, Mom would love having you stay, you know that.” It’s true; they get along like gangbusters. He still looked a little hesitant. “ _I’d_ like having you stay, too.”

Well that settled it! And I really am cool with having Ianto around. He’s fun to argue with, he’s a good backup set of wheels, and we actually tend to have a good time together. Case in point: we put in Independence Day and skipped to Bill Pullman’s speech at the end and recited it right along with him. Humans versus aliens for the win! I love that cheeseball movie. Ianto totally fell asleep during the big firefight. He almost fell into the popcorn bowl! I had to pull him partway into my lap. To protect him, of course. And then I fell asleep, so when I woke up the next morning, I had a crick in my neck and Ianto had a crease from my jeans on his cheek.

Gwen came over later to help me prep for my date with Doc. We designed the lighting and mood music, chose an outfit, decided on the takeout, and came up with a way to get rid of Mom and Ianto for the evening (special event at the Griffith Observatory – they’re space freaks). And then Doc arrived!

I wish I could say the evening was a success. It wasn’t. I showed him around the house (it’s mainly underground, so it’s a lot bigger on the inside). He was impressed with the architecture, I could tell. But when we settled down to watch the movies, he didn’t respond to any of my subtle flirting. And I turned on all my charm! But not even halfway through our Tony Curtis fest, he complained of food poisoning from the banana pudding I’d picked up from takeout and left in a hurry. I don’t get it. Did my hair get flat? Did I stumble into some bad lighting? We’d arranged everything so perfectly!

I discussed it with Gwen and Rhys the next day during our final Driver’s Education class. Gwen’s not a good driver, and she really should have been concentrating on the road instead of talking to me, but she’s the kind of person who will make sacrifices for her good friends.

“Maybe he actually _did_ get food poisoning.” She forgot her blinker, and hurriedly flicked it on.

“Check your rearview before changing lanes, Gwen, you want to get us killed?” Rhys was layering it on a bit thick – it’s a virtual machine, after all, not the real road.

“I guess it’s possible. Maybe I should be relieved – having sex is a big decision.” I’d had lube and condoms all stocked up, too!

“Wait, who’d you almost have sex with?” Rhys was starting to get into the conversation now, instead of paying attention to Gwen. Our virtual car ran over a virtual bicyclist as Gwen forgot to check the side mirror.

“Doc – you know, John Smith?” I was a little affronted when Rhys burst out laughing. “What? What is your problem?”

“Jack, mate – John Smith’s got a girlfriend.” Rhys kept laughing like a loon.

“No way! Who? Who’s his girlfriend?” He had been on two dates with me! They were dates, weren’t they? Was I completely clueless?

“I don’t know; some girl named Rose – she’s not at this school. She’s in Cleveland or Wichita or someplace not here. Gwen, Jesus, watch out for that truck!” Rhys tapped angrily on the screen as Gwen swerved heroically around an eighteen-wheeler.

“You’re making me nervous! And being completely insensitive to poor Jack here!” Yeah, tell me about it! “Jack, are you okay?”

“You know, Gwen, I hadn’t thought of it before, but his clothing style – I just don’t mesh with the Converse-and-suit look. I don’t think we would have made sense.” And it’s true. Not really about the clothing – okay, clothes are important to me, but I understand if not everyone feels that way. No, we really didn’t connect on a personal interests level. I still really liked Doc, and found him interesting, fascinating, even, but it wasn’t going to happen for us. And I could handle that.

It’s a good thing, too, because I really had to concentrate on passing my driving test. I wanted to borrow one of Ianto’s waistcoats for the test, as they made me look very mature and put-together, but we got into a fight. It was stupid; I don’t even remember what it was about, but he called me a self-absorbed brat and I called him a lazy hanger-on. I’m not _that_ self-absorbed! Just because I know what colors look best on me, and the cut of the clothes, and where to get the best prices. Didn’t I let him stay at the house? Didn’t I get him tickets to that Paley documentary fest and the Griffith Observatory? How is that self-absorbed? Yeah, sure, I benefited too, but that’s just smart! It’s not selfish. And why should I care what Ianto thinks? Why was I letting it throw me into such turmoil? I totally didn’t check my side-view mirror and almost ran over a real bicyclist during my driving test; I was that distracted by the fight! I may have driven through a stop sign and forgotten to signal a time or two, as well. I guess I really should have paid attention in Driver’s Education.

At any rate, I failed the test. Me, a failure! I tried to talk my way out of it, but none of my charm budged the instructor, not one whit. I was an utter failure, and everyone would know. I had to take a cab back home. And when I got there, who were there but Ianto and Toshiko, watching Some Like It Hot in the den. Ugh. They tried to be all sympathetic, but I was still mad at Ianto and wanted to be alone. Toshiko had other plans, however.

“Jack, could I talk to you for a second?” For the first time I noticed she had a small box in her hands.

“Sure, Toshiko, let’s go to my room.” Maybe I was being rude to Ianto, but he’d just provide a distraction. To Toshiko, I mean.

The box, it turned out, contained all this ephemera about Owen. Toshiko had the pencil stub from the drawing I’d made, a CD of the song they’d danced to at the Valley party, and an identical pair of shoes to the one that’d hit her on the head there.

“So…what are you planning on doing with this stuff?” Actually, the pencil was still usable.

“I’m going to put it in the hazardous waste bin at the dump. I’d like to burn it, but the CD presents a problem.” Trust Toshiko to come up with the most scientifically sound way to dispose of her jilted lover junk.

“That’s great. Is there … any reason … you were cleaning out your drawers?”

“A new chapter is starting in my life. I need you to help me get Ianto.” My stomach did this really weird backflip at that. Ianto and Toshiko? No. Absolutely not. Sure, they’re both smart and they like science-type stuff – but that’s it – they’re too similar. Ianto needs someone who’s not so serious. Someone who can help him have fun and get him to smile and laugh. He has the best laugh. Whatever; they just wouldn’t work out, I knew it.

“Toshiko, are you sure Ianto is right for you?” I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I had to be honest.

“Well … yes. We like a lot of the same stuff, and we have good conversations.”

“And, you think he likes you back?” No way does he see her as more than a friend. I was sure of it!

“I don’t know; what do you think? Wait, do you not think Ianto likes me?” She was frowning now, and her mouth was set in a thin line. _Great_.

“I think he likes you quite a bit! But as a friend.” Maybe that would work.

“A friend.” Her tone was so very flat. “Look, Jack, you don’t have a very good track record with figuring out who likes who. Why am I even listening to you to begin with? You’re a virgin who can’t drive.” I felt her words like a suckerpunch to the gut.

“That was way harsh, Toshiko.”

“I think I’m going to go home. I don’t want us to fight.” I didn’t either, but, man, I didn’t want to see her face anymore. I was not at all sorry to see her leave. I had to leave, too. My emotions were tied in knots, I swear. I needed retail therapy in the worst possible way.

I mean, was it at all possible that Toshiko was right? Could Ianto actually like her? And would that be a bad thing? I want them both to be happy. What did Toshiko see in him, anyway? He dresses funny, he listens to complaint rock. He’s not even cute, in a conventional way. Although, yes, his nose is certainly adorable. And his eyes are certainly pretty. And when he smiles … anyhow, I just think Ianto would be happier with someone who could make him feel more alive and carefree. Someone who would tell him jokes, and laugh at his jokes. Ianto needs someone with imagination, someone to take care of him. And then it hit me with all the force of the running of the brides at Filene’s – I’ve been totally clueless about this whole thing! I am majorly totally butt-crazy in love with Ianto!

The way he smiles, the way he laughs, the way he pays attention when I speak to him, the way he supports me – how could I have been so blind? But now I don’t know – does he feel the same way about me? Could he ever? And how the hell am I supposed to act around him now that I know how _I_ feel?

I want to do something to convince him of the depth of my feelings. I want him to see that I’m not totally self-absorbed! That’s a self-absorbed thought, isn’t it? Ugh. But surely there is a way I can, I don’t know, better humanity in an unselfish way?

I talked about it with my mom. After all, she helps people every day! She said I could help her get the paperwork together for the Mexican Embassy; I just needed to check a list. Their clinic is really going to happen, and it’s all because my mom took an interest in it. That got me thinking. I am really popular at school. What if I used my popularity to help a cause? If _I_ was interested in something, then other people would join in so that my popularity, charm and good looks could rub off on them! It was perfect. But what cause?

The solution presented itself the next day in the form of Ms. Du We’vil’s class, specifically, her appeal to get us involved with helping the victims of the Sky Gypsy Disaster. Sky Gypsy was this front company who swindled a bunch of people in the Pismo Beach area – I was a little confused on the details, exactly, but when Ms. Du We’vil told us people were getting foreclosed on their homes and shuttled off to shelters, I knew I had to do something! They were losing everything they had – casual wear _and_ designer clothes! So Gwen and I formed the “Pismo Beach Recovery Institute” and Gwen made me a big “Captain Jack” pin to wear so everyone would know I fully supported this campaign.

People turned out in droves! Toshiko and I even made up over designing a spreadsheet to mark all the food donations. I was still nervous to bring up the topic of Ianto around her, though. Ianto would be so impressed with how I physically arranged all the donated items into like groupings by alphabet. I indulged a little daydream of taking him around the donations (we had to set up in the school gym, there were so many!) and somehow getting lost in the linen aisle, and maybe falling back against the piles of cotton sheets and my hands going up under his waistcoat and shirt and pulling him tight against me – 

“Jack! Hey, Jack.” It was Tommy. I had to take a moment to get composed. Can you blame me?

“Tommy. Is that your donation?” Tommy had a big box of pajamas. I hadn’t thought of that – casual wear, designer threads, _and_ pajamas.

“Yeah.” He shuffled his feet and blushed, and suddenly I remembered him at that party in the Valley earlier this year – that same kind of embarrassed shuffle – around Toshiko. Toshiko, who was now one aisle over in boxed breakfast foods. An idea formed in my head, and I gave Tommy an encouraging smile.

“Tommy, I cannot for the life of me remember where these are supposed to go! Why don’t you pop over to breakfast foods and ask Toshiko?” My matchmaker self was back in action! And it totally worked, too! Toshiko told me after he left that she and Tommy were going to watch an eight-hour miniseries on World War I at her house the next weekend. Not my era, personally, but Toshiko was all aglow. I really hope it works out. I want her to be happy. (Yes, happy with someone other than Ianto.)

I kept up my streak of unselfish helpful behavior for the final push on the Mexican clinic proposal. Mom had to stay late at the hospital for an emergency surgery, and Ianto and I were helping one of her colleagues arrange the final few forms and put on the finishing touches. I sat so close to Ianto I could feel the heat from his thigh under the table. I took every opportunity to touch his forearm. He was in a ratty t-shirt and jeans and a lame choker, but it did nothing to distract from his appeal. He kept making all these bad puns, and I was grinning so hard my jaw started to hurt. But then, disaster! We lost a form! It wasn’t on any checklist. Mom’s colleague totally blamed us, too!

“This is serious business! We’re saving lives here – this isn’t some excuse for puppy love!” I could feel my face catch on fire. And I don’t ever blush quite like that. And for once in my life, I was utterly speechless. Ianto wasn’t, though.

“We’ve been living and breathing this proposal for months here. Relax; the form is definitely in this house. Why don’t you be productive and help us find it.” He stood up and put his hands on his hips. Mom’s colleague was a little taken aback at Ianto’s extremely hot display of cool reason.

“You two lost it. You two can find it.” And with that, he left. It was really unfair; _we_ hadn’t lost it! It just wasn’t there. But what my mind kept returning to was the phrase ‘puppy love.’ Maybe Ianto hadn’t noticed. I watched him run a hand through his hair before he sat back down, moving his chair around so we were almost facing each other.

“Sorry about that wanker, Jack. Imagine saying we were, you know…” Oh, God, he had heard. Deflect! Deflect!

“It was totally his job to attach that form; I bet it’s in his own briefcase or something.” Maybe if I didn’t acknowledge it…

“Yeah. Or else it’s sticking to the back of another form or something. Don’t you worry about it, though, I’ll go through what we have and see if it’s there. You could go shopping, if you wanted.” That shouldn’t have hurt so much. Normally I love retail therapy. But when Ianto suggested it…

“You think that’s all I do; I’m just a dumb kid with a credit card?” I tried _really hard_ not to sound like my heart was breaking.

“Of course not! You’re much more; you’re strong and friendly and funny, and extremely loyal to your friends. I think people just see, you know, how you look and they don’t bother looking deeper at who you actually are.”

“How I look?” Wait a minute, what was Ianto trying to say here? I have to admit, my pulse was stuttering along at a faster pace than usual.

“You know you’re gorgeous. I mean, that’s not why I come here! I want to help out Martha. She’s the only one who cares about me.” That was so not true!

“That’s not true.” If I could have gotten my tongue to obey my brain, I would have said so many other things, like how brilliant and hot and smart and wonderful he was. But it was really difficult to speak after he’d called me ‘gorgeous.’

“Are you saying … you… care about me?” Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.

“Ianto…” I barely got his name out before he cut me off with a kiss. His hands just reached out and cupped my face and suddenly it was all teeth and tongues and lips. I pulled him closer and slid my hands up under his t-shirt, just like in my daydream. Holy crap, the real thing was so much better! I could taste him (honey! Ianto tastes like honey!) and the feel of him! His tongue, licking and caressing in my mouth, I swear it was everywhere, and his skin under my hands, warm and tight and – Ianto has a hairy chest! I pulled him even closer, until he was practically in my lap, and circled my arms around his back. He even smelled divine, all fresh cotton and paper and musk, and the little moans he made in my mouth – well, you can guess what happened next.

Dum da da dum! The wedding march, right. Not for _us_! Come on we’re sixteen and this isn’t Vermont. But Ms. Du We’vil and Mr. My-getmetothechurchontime tied the knot and invited us all. (I bet I could get a job as a professional match-maker in the future!) Ianto and I went with Gwen and Rhys, and Toshiko and Tommy. It was a really stellar wedding, and Ianto held my hand throughout and we danced and made out during the reception.

So what I said earlier, about being a totally normal American boy? I stand by that. But I’d add something to it: totally normal American boy who’s butt-crazy in love. And it’s grand!


End file.
